The Art Of Dreaming
by Lupin3Black
Summary: Even werewolves have dreams. They may be smaller than everyone else's. May seem like normal life to everyone else. But they don't get it. A normal life IS a werewolf's dream. 'Its when you cry, and you sob, and you fight and you kick and scream and they don't leave but wrap their arms around you, that you know they love you.'
1. Chapter 1

**a/n this is short, sweet and sad. I've attempted to make you cry, review, if I succeeded.**

Remus had , adrenaline inducing, heart pumping, heavy breathing dreams. Of course he did, he was a 15-year old boy, he was at that age were he could just be, do nothing but let his hopes and dreams wash over his small body, let the excitement with each new attempt and failurewind around his heart as he picked himself put of he the dust, brushed himself off and tried out a new path.

He had the world at his feet, 'O's in every subject, even potions. He wasn't hideous, granted, he wasn't a attractive as Sirius but no one really was. Great friends to fall back on, who wouldn't turn their backs no matter what Remus threw at the, werewolf? No bother, Gay? Come on in mate! A kick-ass boyfriend, who held him on the bad nights and loved every bit of him, who laughed when he was angry and kissed him when he woke grumpily with morning breath. His parents doted on him, they were behind him in everything.

Everything should have worked out perfectly.

But they didn't.

Because he was a werewolf.

Remus knew what he wanted, he wanted a small cottage on a hillside in the north of France, where breezes washed over them in waves, he wanted fingers intertwined and lazy days in bed and cups of tea in front of the fireplace. He wanted good books and family dinners. Christmases with the future Potters with James and Lily's children running about with presents in their hands.a future where he could kiss Sirius when he wanted, wear golden bands that symbolised their love.

He didn't want much, career wise, a small job in a library would do him, or perhaps teaching muggle children. He knew James and Sirius wanted to be aurors, and Remus would support that until he physically couldn't anymore. He knew Lily wanted to start a tea shop, a small one, with the grace and air of a dainty Victorian household.

But despite it all, despite his friends urging him on with their bright smiles and glittering eyes, despite his teachers encouragements and probes, there was always that voice. Snarling in the back of his head.

'Your not worth it.'

'Will never make it.'

'Dangerous.'

'Animal'

He knew, no matter what Professor tried to comfort him with his words or when Sirius would defiantly say (with a small shaky voice laced with secret tears) that Remus would be okay.

Remus knew better, he knew the ministry would find him someday.

That day just happened to be on Halloween 1975. Remus was 15 and out celebrating Halloween with Sirius, they were dancing, slow and melodise, to a song only in the beating of their hearts, when they came, dressed in White, voices impersonal and scathing, ripping them away from they protection of his friends, his peers, his equals, they'd tried to fight, the unprejudiced ones anyway, Dumbledore, McGonagall all by his side as they fought a losing war, when they had finally managed to drag him away, he could hear Sirius screaming, fighting in his honour despite the exhaustion from the needle they had forced upon him, he could hear Lily crying, see James's fear reflected in his own eyes. Hell, even Snape had fought, he'd put up a good fight, the slytherins into the darkness

. Blood was shed,

Children were scarred,

A couple, beautiful in the light, glowing in the darkness was torn apart,

Remus had been expecting this, the unfair trial based on false accusations and bribes, he'd seen everyone he loved there, all on his side, as he pleaded with the biased judge to just have bloody mercy for once in his miserable fucking bland life.

It didn't work.

Remus couldn't stop the quake in his in body, the tremor in his hands, couldn't fight the tears that fell, when he fell to his knees in front of the jury, well, he couldn't help that either. He heard shouts of protests, spells being shot, his brother fighting with the marauders by his side, his mother sobbing loudly as he was being dragged out, cuffed and gagged, he glanced at Sirius and was unsurprised to find him staring back at him, Sirius shouted quickly 'I love you!' Remus could only mouth behind fabric, he could see some of the during fighting too, pleading with the judge, Remus's terrified amber eyes connected with the judges pale blue eyes. He seemed to regret his decision and didn't bother to call the court to order as he watched the young pale boy he'd just sentenced go limp with defeat.

'Pagebreak'

Everyone he knew had shown, even a few he didn't, there was more than a few werewolves there, but Remus knew better than to point this out. He could see James and Lily, sitting together, hands clasped and eyes wet. His parents were sobbing publicly, his brother stricken with grief. He wanted to smile and tell them it would be alright. But he couldn't. Because It wasn't. And it would never be alright. He saw Sirius and struggled to stay sane, Sirius sat alone, eyes wide and unblinking, tears running down his face as he mouthed the words 'I love You' as many times as he could.

Even the man who tied him to a post was crying as Remus stared up at his with his large soulful eyes, "I'm sorry. Oh god, son I'm so fucking sorry, you poor bastard, 15, it's sinful," he came close to Remus's ear and made it look like he was in spitting insult but instead he whispered "Do you have any messages you want to pass on."

Remus blinked up at the taller older man, his brown eyes were swimming with tears, "Tell them." He struggled to get the words out, "Tell them all I love them, oh god, oh god I love them." He broke down, his hands tied behind his back so he couldn't even cover his face, so his milky tears just ran down his face.

No shooter came to the small clearing, it would be done from a small room where no one knew who it was so some crazed maniac would avenge the werewolf.

A countdown of a woman cracking voice sounded throughout the arena.

"1"

Remus twisted his head, searching frantically for Sirius, he couldn't see him.

He'd left. Left Remus alone to die.

"2",

Remus mouthed quickly, 'mischief managed' to no one in particular but he knew everyone was watching.

"3"

A gunshot echoed around the arena, silencing everyone.

11111111

**A/N  
This is my new project, it isn't over. The big question here is,**

**Is he dead?**

**Lupin3Black**


	2. Chapter 2

The Art Of Dreaming

Chapter two

**A/N this is short. But fairly important for the rest of the story.**

To the world we are dead. To our friends, our families, our peers and our enemies. We are gone. To the world we no longer breathe, smile, nor cry. We are completely unable to produce any emotion. We are gone. I, as a werewolf, am buried in a mass grave, we are more lucky, most werewolves don't get that, I've seen werewolves as young as a few months tossed to wolves.

Ironic.

My supposed grave, is on the east of the Siberian forest, were the trees rustle at night and the leaves make shadows in the dark, where unclassified creatures lurk and attack when one is lacking. The dark muddy patch that contains over 79 lives grows flowers, dark and mysterious, trees grow and fall, because, who really wants a tree of souls on their back garden? The most common flower however, is the Lupine.

To the world, I am nothing more than an executed dark creature. My lover, Sirius Orion Black, disappeared soon after my supposed death, his best friend, James Potter confirmed seeing him jump off a pier before he could catch him.

**Because James was in on it**.

Sirius's grave is a pretty affair. Black marble with swirly gold writing, covered in flowers and trinkets, unproclaimed love poems and patterned quills, pictures of him litter the ground around it, quite a few I'm in.

To the **world** we are gone.

But to **each** other.

We are **forever**.

Together we are very much alive, under the stars that twinkled in the moonlight, the soft feel of grass on my bare back, lips connected and devouring, grey eyes that never dulled in my presence.

I know he misses it all. He never complains. But I know. I know he misses the a potters with every fibre of his being, I know he misses **James**, I miss James but not like Sirius, James was Sirius's **brother**. His best friend. He misses the community, other peoples presence. Technology. Music. Art. Lessons. **Everything**.

He misses the small things, the idle chatter on a bus, whispered conversations in charms class, warm tea, in a warm kitchen. Sitting upright in an uncomfortable chair cushioned by handmade pillows. He misses pranks, the security. He misses home.

I tell him to go. Tell him to leave me. Go back to civilisation and create some ridiculous story that'll make him famous. To go back to Hogwarts. Back home. With James his brother, the potters, his family and Hogwarts, the only home he's ever know. I mean it. I'll figure out some way to live alone. That he should go back,

Get an education.

A life.

A new **love**.

My voice always cracks then, the fierce **determination** flaking under his intense but yet soft gaze.

He says he could never love again. Yes. He could go home. Live life and somewhat. But he could never be happy again. That I'm his only **love**. That saving my life was the best decision he ever made.

We make love then. Soft, gentle. With the stars glittering and the grass soft and velvety under my hyper sensitive finger tips.

It's enough to make me believe he loves me.

**I know he does.**

_He has no choice. Its you or no one_

Without him...

**There isn't a without him.**

_But_-**NO**!

It's enough to make to me fall under, all over again, to believe love isn't all an **illusion**.

He says being with me is enough and more. He says that as long as he has me, the stars, and the never ending supply of towns and forests.

He's **happy**.

And I believe that.

So to the **world**.

We are dead. **Gone**. _Vanished_. Perished.

But to each other, we can feel the _beating of each hearts,_ **slow** and rhythmic, under our smooth fingers.

We are very much _**alive**_.

**_Pagebreak_**

****The arenas gone dark, I struggle against the binds and a smooth hand takes my wrist and cuts smoothly through the thick ropes. I look up and Sirius is there.

He didn't leave.

He came back.

He always comes back.

"We've got to run!" He hisses and we do.

We run.

Out of the arena.

And we run.

Out of the county.

And we run.

And we run.

And we don't look back.

Not once.

**a/N this is not the end. I repeat. This is not the end. Incase this is a bit vague and please tell me if it is. Remus and Sirius are alive**.

** Btw, thanks J for the spoiler alert. ;)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter three**

**a/n I'm sorry this has been so long! I completely forgot about this fic. But here's chapter three for whoever cares.**

"It sickening." Sirius spits one day, having just come back from the town for supplies, peeling off his disguise as his he sat down heavily beside me on a small log. Now men of 21, the log doesn't hold us comfortably like it did when we were boys of 15, but, with me still as skinny as ever Sirius makes do with pulling me into his lap.

I don't even protest nowadays, it's become too natural for me. "What is, love?" I ask, helping him take off the blonde wig and glasses.

"This!" He says maliciously, although I know it isn't directed at me, I still flinch and Sirius's hard gaze softened a bit, wrapping an arm around my waist, but using the other to pull a newspaper from his backpack, frowning I take it. Peering at the headline, which reads, 'TEENAGE WEREWOLF SENTENCED TO DEATH' feeling the colour draining from my face I read on, trying desperately to stop my stomach from churning.

16-year old werewolf Luke Fern has been sentenced to death. The recent ravenclaw being found guilty at his trial on the 17th. His execution will happen on the 20th, his boyfriend, a distraught 18-year old Issac Olden, refused to give an interview and assaulted a particularly curious reporter.

Mr Olden has obviously been put under some sort of imperious spell, much like the Lupin/Black case 6 years ago. When we attempted to question the Fern family, Luke Fern's sister Teresa got extremely violent, and after having a boiled kettle thrown at us from the top window we retreated from the premises.

Although we are somewhat miffed at being treated so horribly, we can understand, Teresa and Issac are obviously under the illusion that the werewolf loves them, as if this dark creature is capable of emotion.

The execution will take place on the 20th, in Brighton, Bluebell hall, tickets are available at your closest ministry and anyone is welcome.

Rita Skeeter, Daily prophet.

When I finished reading, I had tears running down my face, turning in Sirius's arms, I melted into his embrace, just mumbling "It's so horrible," Sirius rocked me, putting his chin on my head and enfolding me in his strong hold.

"I'm sorry love," he murmured into my ear, "I didn't mean to make you cry, I just wanted to let you know." Looking up at him, I seen his own eyes were swimming. Cupping his calloused hand on my cheek, he guided me upwards, pressing my lips against his softly and gently, I knew he needed this.

Even after 6 years, Sirius was still wary of being found.

"Sometimes," he says a while later, when my head is lying on his bare chest and we're both half asleep, "I wish I could save them all." He murmured, "Help them into the wild, start a rebellion y'know?"

I do know. I know the feeling of helplessness. How I should do something.

"Yes." I whisper, watching as the half-moon bathed him in light, making him look like an angel, his ebony hair spread out and his eyes closed.

"Their so young. Older than we were. But still so young." He whimpered, sounding so much younger than he was, so much weaker, so much more vulnerable. It broke my heart.

"We could do it." I whisper into the night, watching as his silver eyes snap open in reaction.

"Huh?"

"Well think about it," I say reasonably, sitting up and feeling the soft woollen blanket slip off my top half, "You've done it before. We have the motive. We have our wands. Their young and in love, desperate to be together, when we get up tomorrow, we'll go to Brighton, try and find Issac and see if he agrees to the idea, do you still know how you did it?" I say, watching as he sits up and nods slowly.

"Well, we could save a child from death, form a pack, you can help Issac become an animagus so he can help on full moons like you? What do you think?" I lace our fingers together and peer at him curiously as a slow smile spread across his handsome face.

"I think, Remus, that that's the best idea you've ever had!" Sirius exclaimed, "Well, after suggesting we had sex in that ministers car!"


End file.
